Ronald Weasley: A Death Eater Incident
by shadowsofthelight369
Summary: Just a short three part story of how the incident at Malfoy Manor would have been different if Ron wasn't with Harry and Hermione, and was a Death Eater instead, having betrayed them. Story also shows how this would have affected other events in the last book.
1. Captured

**This is just a quick one shot I did, that actually has about three parts to it... The other two (at least, I think it'll be two) parts to this will be posted hopefully within the week or sooner. Hope you enjoy, and if you did, or didn't, review!**

His name was Ronald Weasley, and he was a Death Eater.

It was late at night, and as he walked, his boots hit the white marble floor with purpose, leaving a resounding clack to echo the cold halls. He was in a hurry. He had been summoned, for the first time in a long time, in the middle of the night.

He was one of the Inner Circle, and for the first time in his life, one of the elite. He was rarely called in the night without warning.

Regardless of the time, he was fully dressed and wide awake. If his Master wanted him there, at Malfoy Manor, then that was he would be. Happily, for his Master and his noble cause.

He had reached the dining room, where the meetings were generally held. He was breathless with anticipation, electrified adrenaline coursing through his blood, eager for what he hoped the night would bring: death to someone not himself.

He opened the closed doors, an expressionless mask on his face, hiding his joy. His two ex best friends were there, kneeling on the floor, much to Ron's joy, and perhaps just a dash of uncertainty. His goal, and that of all the other Death Eaters, had been finding the. They were Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The two biggest threats to the Dark Lord.

It was all about them, they were the key to the war. For better or for worse. It was about time that they were caught and put to justice. Assuming that it was them.

The one that was presumably Potter, looked distorted, unlike Harry himself, and with not even a pair of glasses on his nose. Still though, the prospect of Harry Potter, captured, was enough to give Ron a twisted smile of joy.

In the room, around the three, were the two Malfoys, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Fenrir Greyback. In Ron's opinion, the other lowly people, likely Snatchers, weren't worth mentioning.

"Ron." Draco acknowledged as he stood up, a relaxed expression on his face. He had been squatting in front of the prisoners. His posture was relaxed, if his stance was tense. Ron narrowed his eyes vaguely, wondering what this meant, but he shoved his suspicions aside. Now was really not the time to doubt loyalties.

"Draco. Is it really them?" Despite how excited he was, his voice was calm.

Draco shrugged, turning his back and walking to the other side of the room carelessly. He didn't respond. Ron glared at him before turning to Bellatrix who was still examining the prisoners.

"Is it them?"

She turned away from Hermione, and looked at him through heavily lidded eyes, "You tell me, Weasley."

His name rolled off her tongue like it was an insult. Her eyes challenged him, but he merely raised his eyebrows and stepped past her. He approached cautiously, almost afraid that he would see the eyes of Harry Potter staring back at him. While Ron was a loyal Death Eater, he didn't want his friends or family, filthy blood traitors as they were, to die. If it was Potter, that would mean that the Order wouldn't be far behind on an attack. His family, all of them in the Order would be put in danger, again. However, Ron truly couldn't care less about Granger or Potter, they had stopped being his friends the second that he realised who he was and joined the Dark Lord.

He looked down at his face, studying it carefully. Moments ticked by, the occupants of the room had fallen silent, in eager anticipation and full of nervous energy.

The eyes. The infamous eyes. They were definitely those of Harry Potter. However, a knocking of doubt plagued him. Snape would know for sure.

He stood up, paranoidly smoothing his crisp robes. His shoulders high, and eyes piercing, he looked to Bellatrix, the authority of the room and said, "I can't be sure. I think that they are his eyes. We should call Snape."

Bellatrix eyed him, but he knew that she would take his advice, he had proven himself to be trustworthy to the cause. Moments later, Bellatrix had her wand out, and was pointing it at her left arm. As a high up death eater, she like all in the Inner circle could call other death eaters, as well as the Lord, which all with a mark could do. As the most respected death eater in the room, Lucius had lost his authority when he lost his wand, Bellatrix was solely given this honor.

The minutes waiting for Snape to arrive were spent torturing the mudblood.

Bellatrix had immediately, after calling for Snape, cut her free from a yelling Potter, saying that they could do something productive while waiting for him.

She was currently laying on her back, screaming and sobbing.

Ron stood next to Draco, watching him. Draco had never been cut out for the heavier parts of being a death eater. Sometimes Ron envied him his innocence and inexperience. As one of the Inner circle, Ron had gladly done worse things, many times over, than what Bellatrix was doing to Hermione. Sometimes, in the deepest darks of his mind, he wondered what his life would be if he had chosen differently.

The light instead of the dark.

While Hermione screamed and writhed, feeling the wrath of Bellatrix's knife in her arm, the Snatchers and Greyback were holding the other two prisoners back. As Snape would be there soon, to identify them, Bellatrix had decided that the would be best left out. Ron was sure that she had decided it mostly because she wanted them to see Granger in pain.

Potter, if that was who he was, was putting up quite a fight. The Snatchers had wanted to simply stun him, but Bellatrix had screamed at them not to, and so he struggled on.

Ron stalked forward, out of sympathy for Draco, who was looking sick and paler than usual. As he did so, something caught the his eyes, he looked and was suddenly surprised. Eyes widening, he approached the Snatchers.

While he had noticed that one of them was holding a bag earlier, he had discarded it from his mind, thinking it of no consequence. Now, in the attempts to keep the two prisoners at bay, the Snatcher had dropped the bag, and one of its contents had come spilling out. It was the Sword of Gryffindor.

Ron knew for a fact that it was in the Lestrange's vault. How a lowly Snatcher had gotten his hands on it, was beyond Ron, but he was going to find out. He stalked over to the snatcher, but hesitated and pulled out his wand. Without even muttering an incantation, rope bounds flew out of his wand and bound themselves to Harry.

He fell to the ground next to Ron's feet, completely unable to do anything but thrash helplessly on the ground. Ron walked forward, ignoring the prisoners, until he was toe to toe with the snatcher, who had, by now, reclaimed his bag.

"I happened to notice something interesting in that bag of yours, mind pulling it out?" His voice was soft, laden with unspoken threat. The Snatcher looked terrified, but stared at him rebelliously, not moving back despite their close proximity.

Behind Ron, Snape walked into the room. Billowing black robes made him seem even paler than usual, but when he saw the prisoners, he seemed to get even paler still. Bellatrix, upon hearing his footsteps, stood up to greet him. She threw the knife carelessly to the side, looking disgusted at the ruby blood dripping off it. Snape nodded to acknowledge her presence, but his eyes remained on the two prisoners, Harry in particular. It was only his mastery of Occlumency that allowed him to keep an uninterested look on his face. He raised an eyebrow at the sobbing, bloody mass on the floor that was Hermione. He took a step towards her, but seemed to catch himself, and redirected his attentions to Bellatrix.

"You called?" He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation.

She let out a puff of air, blowing the stay hairs out of her eyes, "and you took your time". Her words were dangerous, but her voice lazy.

His face didn't change, "I don't come at your beck and call, Bella."

"Yet here you are." She opened her arms in a 'Who would have guessed' sort of gesture.

He looked past her, tempted to roll his eyes, and looked at the still struggling prisoners.

"Is that who I think it is?"

She jerked her head behind her, still facing him, gesturing for him to look. He swept past her, inches away from hitting her shoulder with his. She stared at the spot that he had been moments ago, head cocked to the side, before whirling around to face him and the others. A second or so later, she apparently noticed the altercation with Ron and the Snatcher and walked leisurely over to them.

"What do we have here," Bellatrix drawled, in a manner comparable to that of her brother in law, Lucius Malfoy.

Ron let go of the Snatchers robes. He had grabbed them violently and pressed his wand to the neck of the Snatcher when he refused to do more than pull the sword partially out of the bag.

Bellatrix, her eyes fixated on what little of the sword was revealed above the rim of the bag, stalked forward, shoving roughly past Ron and in front of the Snatcher. The Snatcher, knowing that his time was up unless he acted, quickly pulled the rest of the sword out, handle first, and handed it to Bellatrix, with a pathetic slight bow. When she took it he scrambled back, hoping that she would leave him alone now. Unfortunately for him, she did not.

She took large strides back to him, holding the sword at her side in a maniac fashion, "Where did you get this?" Her voice was deadly soft, showing the true face of her insanity. When he didn't reply, probably frozen with fear, Bellatrix leaned forward, getting even more in his face that she had been previously. This time she was yelling, "I will ask you again, where did you get this sword!"

He stuttered a reply, "It was in the tent with 'em" he gestured wildly at the prisoners, a thick accent making his words almost indistinguishable.

She twirled around, robes swishing in her wake, and stomped over to Hermione who was still on the ground, but had stopped sobbing. She flinched away from Bellatrix's feet, and then her face when Bellatrix got on her hands next to her.

"Where did you get the sword of Godric Gryffindor"?

Snape, on the other side of the room, had been paying vague attention, mostly focused on examining Potter and then Granger girl, and after determining it was them, what he should do. When he heard Bellatrix's words about the Sword of Gryffindor, he rocketed to his feet, warning bells going off in his head.

He had just given, in secret, the sword the Potter, and now it was back in the Dark's hands. If the Dark Lord got whiff of this, he would be dead, and, worst of all, the Dark Lord would know that Harry was looking for Horcruxes. That would not be allowed.

Under Bellatrix, Hermione screamed. Potter's efforts to get out were increasing, though he had been slightly crushed by the initial sight of Ron, clearly working as a Death Eater. One of the Snatchers kicked Potter, who yelled. Snape turned around and glared at the Snatcher, making him back up quickly, looking confused but afraid.

Snape's mind was racing.

**I look forward to reading your reviews. :)**


	2. Ronald Weasley Death Eater

**Hi! Hope you're having a wonderful day! **

**So last chapter, there were a few typos where Fred was mentioned instead of Ron. I fixed it, but just to clear up confusion, Fred shouldn't have even been mentioned in the first chapter, and if he was, it was supposed to be Ron. Thank you so much to the reviewer who pointed this out to me!**

Ronald Weasley was 15 years old, and incredibly confused.

Recently, he'd been… approached, by Draco Malfoy. Malfoy and him had never gotten on well, but… what he'd said was intriguing.

"The Dark will value you" and "The Dark is where you belong, not wasting your talents as the sidekick to Harry Potter" and "They don't value you, exactly like all of your brothers. Be yourself, strike out. Join the Dark. Be different."

Now, Ron wasn't stupid. He knew that those words were being fed to Draco, either by his father or someone else on the Dark. He knew that if he left it would weaken Harry and the Light… but how could he not?

It wasn't as if he'd ever been, well, as Draco said 'different' from his brothers. He was in their shadow, and if not theirs, then Harry's. Harry, who was always braver and more important and so much more in the light than Ron. And if not Harry's shadow then Hermione, who was smarter than he could ever be.

And none of it was fair. Ron was just as deserving of respect and attention than anyone else was, but he never got it.

And so he decided it was time to change that.

The initiation was horrible.

Lord Voldemort was horrible. He invaded Ron's mind ruthlessly, hoping to see where his loyalties lay. And then, when he determined that Ron had sufficient cause to join the dark, he was finally given the Dark Mark.

That was the worse part. It had burned worse than how Ron imagined fire burned. He thought that he'd yelled, but couldn't remember hearing it over the pain. It was a permanent reminder of his choice, but he never brought himself to regret it.

Even when he told his family a few months later, he never regretted it.

The Dark revealed what Ron had done during a raid. He was there, but with a mask and robe, so no one knew who he was. The plan was for the Dark Lord to call a stop to the fighting and call Ron up, as his 'most loyal and new follower', which seemed dramatic. Ron would then take off the mask, showing himself.

His mother had cried, seeming resigned.

His father had simply seemed to crumble into himself. Ron thought he was going to cry. He didn't. Instead, he just stood there while making direct eye contact with Ron. He could see his father's eyes go dark and detached, which was easily worse than tears.

Fred and George looked angry, they charged forward at him, determined to have revenge. Voldemort had smirked, and waved his wand. He blew up the road in front of them, killing Fred on impact. Ron still didn't know if George survived. His other brothers weren't at the raid.

Ginny had screamed and tried to run forward with Fred and George, Harry held her back.

Harry had looked so shocked and horrified. Disbelief echoed in his eyes. It was only Ginny trying to run forward that had shocked him out of his daze. He'd yelled that it wasn't Ron, trying to convince himself. A few minutes after than, in the ensuing battle, Harry had sought him out, and Ron proved that he really was Ronald Weasley with only a few words, "I was the Knight", referring to the Chess Game in their first year. Harry had crumbled, just like Arthur, after that. He fell to the ground, and just stayed there. Voldemort would have killed him if not for Dumbledore apperating him out.

Hermione. Ron and her had been tentatively dating when this raid had happened. She sobbed, seemed to pull herself together and then looked beyond furious. She, like Harry, sought him out in the battle. They'd dueled. Ron was intent on proving himself to the Dark, and had shot an extremely dark curse (he'd picked it up from Bellatrix Lestrange, who was responsible for showing him the ropes) at her. From what he heard, she had been in the hospital for weeks. He was surprised she survived.

But that was it. He'd survived. And now he was in the Dark.

There was no going back, not after what happened to the twins and Hermione.

The Dark was everything he'd hoped it would be. As one of Bellatrix's only trainees, and a Weasley turned to the Dark, he was given quite a lot of attention. He rose to the Inner Circle in 6 months and any qualms he may have had were crushed.

He was truly a loyal Death Eater. He'd given up everything, the good and the bad, for his cause. Outside of the Dark, he had nothing.

Which was okay with him, because for one of the first times in his life, he was truly good at something. Dark magic seemed to come easily to him. He had trained with Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband for a few weeks before The Raid when he was revealed to the Light, and she'd taught him a lot of things.

For example, how to torture people. Included in that, were a lot of more specific things he'd learned. Like how to turn someone inside out. How to remove all their teeth in one flick of the wand and make their mouth a bloody mess and they wouldn't be able to eat very well. How to remove all their skin, slowly. And a multitude of other, helpful things.

How to create Inferi, which proved to be an exceedingly helpful skill.

How to make a person think that, as you tortured them, a loved one was the one hurting them.

How to manipulate people (well… he'd had an idea of this before she taught him, but she made it much clearer and more straight forward). This too was easy for him and he used it a lot among the stupider Death Eaters.

Yes, Ron Weasley was a very happy Death Eater.

And then, just under a year after he betrayed the Light and his friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were captured. By Snatchers no less, how useless could Potter and Granger be?

That had made him very happy, because when they were caught and killed, two things would happen:

1, the Dark would stop doubting him. A lot of the other Inner Circle members were suspicious that he was helping them. He supposed that that was easier than accepting how incompetent they were.

And 2, the war would be over. He would be on the winning side, and would get to retire in a form of power under the Dark Lord and live the rest of his life. No fighting, and always on top (he was in the Inner Circle, after all). If he really wanted he could probably save the rest of his family. He wasn't sure if he would yet. They probably would help him much and would probably interfere with the Dark trusting him. They were still his family said.

All being said, Ron was quite looking forward to the death of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. He was confident that the Dark Lord would do it, too. His master would kill Harry and life would be smooth sailing from there.

Ron smiled at the thought.

**Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed, and please review! Have a wonderful rest of your day, guys. Review!**


	3. A Bitter End

**Here is the last of this story, hope you enjoyed it! Be sure to review and tell me what you thought! :)**

With Granger's life, and possible the future of the Wizarding World and the fate of the war on his back, Snape walked calmly as he could to where Bellatrix and the Malfoys were huddled over the screaming body of Granger. He felt pity for Granger, really he did, he didn't want to see her tortured like this, but he had, sadly, become accustomed to this during the war.

This being, seeing people that he knew tortured and killed, and himself being unable to do anything about it, except to make sure that the bodies were found.

He had just heard Bellatrix mention the Sword of Gryffindor, something that he was responsible for putting in the hands of the Golden Trio.

Bellatrix must have heard his footsteps, because she stood up, a look of forced calm on her face. She savagely kicked Hermione in the ribs, receiving a groan of response from her. She had long past the stage of screaming.

"Want to take a turn?" her voice, though soft, told him that he should nod. He nodded, thinking quickly. He had already formed a vague plan in his head, and was glad that Potter was no longer in the spotlight. He would have to break cover, that, he figured, was okay, the war was, it seemed, for better or for worse, almost over.

He bent down, and grabbed Granger by the shoulder, supporting her weight, he did his best to be gently, but he still heard her groan and whimper. He carried her over to the other two prisoners with ease. He set her down without trouble, only feet away from Potter, but only feet away from Ron Weasley.

He looked back at the other Death Eaters, knowing that they would require an explanation. He smirked, and looking at Bella said, "I didn't think that the other two were getting a good enough view". While the others laughed, distracted, he fell to his knees, between the bound prisoner and Granger, and pulled out his wand. He, with his back to Potter and grabbed him lightly by the shoulder. He muttered a complicated charm, that Dumbledore had taught him, that would allow him to disapparate, despite the protections over Malfoy Manor, and also allow him to apparate anywhere he chose. He grabbed Hermione by the shoulder, and after a quick glance to make sure that no one had cottoned on yet, caught Draco's eye.

He momentarily lifted his hand from Hermione's shoulder, and accioed the sword of Gryffindor and the beaded bag, thinking it was important, to him. It flew out of Bella's tight grasp and into his hand. He put his hand mostly back on Hermione, still holding the sword, and the bag that it was in, as well as his wand in that hand. Hermione, by now was unconscious, oblivious to the world.

To Draco he winked, hopefully unnoticed, and disapparated away, both prisoners with him.

He, having given no forethought as to where he would dissaperate, simply thought of the first place that death eaters couldn't, hopefully, get into. Which was the Order's Headquarters.

After Grimmauld place was in use, Dumbledore had set up another, similar house, that would serve as headquarters if something happened to Grimmauld. Insuring that the Order would always have somewhere safe to go. Dumbledore had died before it was utilized, the secret of it had died with him. Until, only weeks ago, Snape had discovered some papers of Dumbledore's, full of knowledge, and had tracked it down.

No one, on either side, to the best of Snape's knowledge, knew about it.

They reappeared with a resounding crack, in the front room, just inside of the main entrance door. The house was isolated, in the middle of a forest somewhere. No one would bother them, or even suspect that they were there.

Harry, still bound together, struggled even harder to get lose from the ropes. It was in vain though, and Snape flicked his wand at him, causing the ropes to fall away. Immediately, Potter pushed himself to his feet and half stubled half rushed past Snape, successful in ignoring him, and ran to Hermione's side. She had fallen unconscious earlier and was still so.

At her side, her friend quickly examined the wound on her arm. Bellatrix had sadistically carved 'Mudblood' into her arm in scrawles of letters. It was bleeding profusely, but other than that she seemed fairly unharmed. It was clear that she had lost a lot of blood, and would need, at the very least, a blood replenishing potion.

Snape sighed and stood up straighter, looking around. He had only bothered to come to the lone house once or twice, mainly to set up protections. The more visits, the more likely that Voldemort would see it in his mind and snatch the knowledge up, making the house useless. Not to mention that he would be dead before he could explain, or make up a story.

If memory serves well, then Snape knew that there were bedrooms upstairs, as well as an attic, a basement downstairs, a large kitchen and the living room on this floor. The living room and kitchen were down that hall, and the stairs, both up and down, were to the left, branching off the living room.

With quick, decisive steps, he marched into the kitchen, hoping that he had stored potions here. A quick look in the cupboards told him that he had both basic potions and ingredients, as well as food.

Quickly taking what he had long ago supplied, he gathered a few bottles into his arm, glad that he had thought ahead and put them there. With them in his arms, he made his way a back to the front room. Potter was kneeling next to her unconscious form, holding the beaded bag between them. Out of it, somehow they had produced wands, three of them, and a few, mediocre at best, healing potions. Her arm, while not much better, had stopped bleeding heavily. The blood was reduced to only a small trickle down her arm.

Snape had to refrain from rolling his eyes, how they had survived this long with their healing skills, was beyond him, but then, he supposed Granger always had been the brains of the group. She probably could have healed herself.

Assuming that the wound wasn't cursed.

Snape grimaced, knowing Bellatrix, the wound would have been cursed. They would all be lucky if he could heal it with the megar potions he had. He didn't envy Granger.

Sighing impatiently, he shoved the blood replenishing potion into Potter's hands, and when he looked at him like Snape had gone insane, Snape impatiently gestured to her head, already focusing on her arm.

Snape looked up a few seconds later, only to make eye contact with Potter, who hadn't given her the blood replenishing potion yet.

"Potter, give her the damn potion, will you?" Snape muttered a few more obscenities under his breath before Potter finally managed to give her the potion completely.

Snape nodded in slight satisfaction, and then, ignoring the uncertain Potter, unstoppered one of the bottles, and gently began to pour it over her arm. He was glad that she was still unconscious, the potion would hurt.

When she began to thrash and moan, he stopped and looked up at the other two conscious people in the room.

"Potter. Make yourself useful and hold her down. This is going to hurt her, but it will close the wound." Snape grimaced, but was relieved to see that Potter had given her the potion. He looked back to the potions that he had, no pain killer, damn.

Moments later, Granger was held down, by a shaken Potter, and Snape poured the rest of the potion down her arm, trying to get it over with. She screamed, eyes flying open, and she tried to sit up. Startled and probably concerned, Potter let her. A few seconds, the wound closed, leaving the letters in jagged script, barely a pink, but still noticeable against her pale skin.

Snape sat back, and stood up, watching as Potter helped her to her feet, and over to the dusty sofa. Snape moved to the kitchen and put his unused potions back. He waited a few minutes before going back.

When he entered the room, Potter was leaning against the wall looking at him, while Granger laid, once again unconscious on the couch.

Based on Potter's red and teary eyes, that were focused on him coldly, he'd been crying, or at least near so. With a pang, Snape remembered that these were kids, who were innocent and unaccustomed to the casualties of war.

Snape returned his gaze to Potter, realising that now was the time that he would carry on Dumbledore's message.

"Why did you do that?" Potter's voice was cold, measured. If he had been crying earlier then he hid it very well.

"Do what?" Snape was playing dumb, hoping to see what Potter was thinking.

"Get us out of Malfoy Manor, and help Hermione." Potter was unimpressed.

Snape uncharacteristically sighed heavily, and moved past Potter into the sitting room, sitting down in the chair farthest from everyone else, and closest to the door.

"I suppose that you think I owe you an explanation." Snape commented, staring at Potter who had sat down a few feet from Granger at her feet.

Granger opened her eyes when he sat down and looked around, her eyes landing first on Harry and then Snape. She looked very aware, and Snape supposed that she must not have been unconscious.

"Yes" again it was Potter who had replied, Snape figured that he spoke for both of them.

"Well, think again Potter, I don't owe you anything."

Potter shot him an angry look, and got to his feet, hand itching to his pocket, where Snape figured he had a wand.

"Sit down, Potter. We don't have time for your rubbish." Snape said and then hesitated before saying sharply, "Neither of you two seemed too surprised at Ronald Weasley."

Both Granger and Potter winced. Neither looked surprised though, or unreasonably upset. Neither of them answered.

"It's just as well, he didn't seem like much help." Snape said, more to himself than either of them.

Potter stood up, obviously hearing. Severus wasn't sure what his intention was, but before Potter could pull out his wand, Granger sat up, wiping tears from under her eyes and cheeks, with the heel of her palm. Potter, even as she did this, sat back down and wrapped his arm around her protectively, not so subtly glaring at him.

Snape raised an eyebrow, surprised but not showing it. Were they together? Romantically? Or were they both just traumatised after the… incident at Malfoy Manor and needed physical contact?

He didn't know.

"Um, Professor, I- we, were under the impression that you had killed Professor Dumbledore-" Granger said from under Potter's arm. She had shot him a surprised look, but still allowed him to hold his arm there.

He interrupted her before she could go on, "Yes, I did."

Potter leaped up at his admission, despite having calmed down when Granger spoke, and probably from touching her. He quickly pointed pointed his wand at Snape.

Calmly, not missing a beat, Snape disarmed him, and before anyone could do anything, tossed Potter's wand to Granger, who caught it. "Clearly, Granger is the only one thinking clearly right now, she can be trusted with a wand, unlike you Potter," his voice was biting, and Harry glowered at him.

Hermione floundered for a moment, before narrowing her eyes and continuing, Harry's wand in her grasp, "Under the orders of whom?"

Snape answered, impressed that she had caught on and asked the right question, "Why, Dumbledore's of course."

The room was deadly quiet for moments, before Potter again jumped to his feet and started yelling at him. He was clearly overcome with outrage.

Snape, annoyed but not surprised flicked his wand and him, before returning his attention to Granger.

"If you would recall, Granger, Dumbledore's hand was black and decayed," she nodded and he continued, both Potter and Granger were listening now, "he had touched a cursed ring I think you know which one Potter" he continued, taking in Potter's look of surprise, "well, that curse was slowly killing him".

He held the entire room's attention, "Draco Malfoy was, early into his summer between your fifth and sixth year, assigned by the Dark Lord, as a death eater, to kill Albus Dumbledore. The Dark Lord never expected him to succeed, it was slow torture for his parents," everyone but Hermione looked somewhat confused. She was keeping up with the story, hanging on his every word. He continued, "Dumbledore, noble as he was, didn't want Draco killed- or worse, and he was dying already. The plan was that I would kill him, securing Draco's safety, as well as my position in his ranks. Where I would continue to help the light, from within the Dark itself."

He let his words hang in the air for a moment, before swishing his wand, and allowing Potter to talk again. Unsurprisingly, he kept silent. Potter looked deep in though, and was looking at Hermione again. Hermione was staring at him, ignoring Potter, even though Snape was confident that there was no emotion to see on his face.

Finally Potter spoke, "How can we know that you aren't lying, and this is all an elaborate plot of Voldemort's."

There was a beat of silence before:

Snape stared at him, incredulous, "Yes, Potter, you got me, this is all an elaborate plot of Voldemort's. What gave it away? Was it the part where we could have killed you, or the part where I helped you leave," his voice was heavy with sarcasm, and Potter at least looked embarrassed and sat back down.

"Or was it the part where I gave you the Sword," he had whispered, but he suspected that Granger had heard him, based on the look that she was giving him.

"Will Hermione be okay?"

Snape sighed heavily before responding, "Yes, but she will have the scar, I don't know if it will ever fade." It was quiet in the room. Hermione, if this affected her, didn't show it. Potter, on the other hand, both looked sad and guilty staring at the sleeve that covered the arm.

Hermione ignored them and opened her mouth, ever seeking knowledge (that was literally how he remembered her from class), "Where are we?"

"In one of the Orders HeadQuarters. Dumbledore built it and it was never used, instead Grimmauld Place was. It has all the necessary protections on it. No one can get it". Everyone nodded.

"Potter I need to talk to you. In private". Snape got to his feet, and Harry looking startled and uncertain, got to his feet.

Snape lead them into the kitchen, glad that Granger had stayed behind. He figured that after almost being killed, and Hermione tortured, their senses had been dulled. Otherwise, she never would have let Potter walk into an abandoned room, with someone who, until only minutes ago, to them, had been a Death Eater. Harry would never had done it either.

"Potter, you are a horcrux."

Harry stared at him, and Snape regretted saying it so boldly. No turning back now.

"On the night that your mother gave her life for you" double edged words, "the Dark Lord split his soul again, after her death, on accident. Because he had, so to speak, 'died' the detached part of soul attached itself to the only living thing. You." His voice was regretful, and he couldn't meet Potter's eyes.

Potter didn't say anything, perhaps out of shock, so he continued, "There is a reason that you can talk to snakes, a reason why you can see into the Dark Lord's head, a reason that Occlumency is useless to you against the Dark Lord."

There was a short silence, before Harry spoke, emotion in his eyes and an emotionless voice, "So I have to die."

Snape bowed his head, no answer needed.

Potter left the room, and distantly Snape heard him tell Granger that they were leaving, that they still had Horcruxes left, Voldemort to kill, and an ending to come. Only a few minutes later, the door clicked open, and clicked shut. Silence reigned in the house, only one still in it.

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